


second best ain't bad

by dzesi



Series: second best ain't bad [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, AtsuHina, Begging, Face-Fucking, Finger Sucking, M/M, Mixed Signals, One-Sided Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, PseudoThreesome, Teasing, Threesome, Verbal Humiliation, atsukagehina, bratty bottom hinata, chatty top atsumu, lowercase aesthetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25121479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dzesi/pseuds/dzesi
Summary: (sometimes a sore subject's just something you haven't gotten off on yet.)“i’d kiss you,” he says, feeling hinata’s smile under his long fingers. then he sucks in a deep inhale. “but i bet you’d just be wishing it were him the whole time, wouldn’t you?”“i…” hinata starts again, not sure what the right answer is.“oh, tch. i’m sure you’ve done it before, and i bet you’ll do it again, too. but the thing i wanna know most—and don’t try to lie, okay?” atsumu’s voice gets a little more deliberate “—is whether you still think about him whenever you touch yourself.”
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio/Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Series: second best ain't bad [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840579
Comments: 37
Kudos: 262





	1. please, who?

**Author's Note:**

> psst: if you want a quick pining prologue for setup, this follows ["any day now"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412827) but believe me—i could never judge a fellow fic reader for skipping straight here for the E-rated standalone!

“i just…” hinata starts, and then hiccups. “i guess i just don’t see why it matters right _now_?” 

a few months ago, hinata was peeling the sunburn off his shoulders in rio. a few weeks ago, he was newly back in his home country, accepting an offer to play for the black jackals. a few days ago, miya atsumu was asking him out on an honest-to-god date.

for better or for worse, after spending so much time living off mixed signals and brutal rebuffs by kageyama, hinata had kinda learned to get off on being shot down. which is why atsumu, in all his scandalous forthrightness and open, earnest interest is such a mindfuck. 

a few minutes ago, hinata was perched on the arm of the sofa, but that was before he finished his beer, gently sat the glass bottle down on the floor, and then allowed his body to tumble bonelessly backwards into atsumu's lap. 

he’s looking down at him, trying to decide whether the presence of hinata’s head on his thighs is an invitation to play with his hair, until he realizes he’s already ruffling his fingers through it anyway. “of course it doesn’t matter right _now_ ,” atsumu soothes, a little ironically. “why would it matter to me right _now_ whether you’re still in love with your ex—”

“—not my ex!—” (hinata’s eyes, which had been softly closed for scalp massage reasons, pop open)

“—your fake-ex, situationship, whatever—when you know damn well i’m actively trying to get into your pants?”

this one makes hinata tense like he maybe wants to sit up, so atsumu just lets the arm he has draped across hinata’s chest get a bit heavier to keep him. 

hinata stays put. “i mean... i do know that, yeah.” 

atsumu watches him kick his feet a little, stretching his legs out into the air above the armrest, and tries to flirt again.

“well…” he says, trying to make his voice sound all low and rumbly, the way everybody seems to like. “is it working?”

hinata turns his pink face toward atsumu’s stomach and blows out a little gust of beer breath like he’s really thinking about it. “i’ll be honest, it was working quite a bit better before you, you know, brought up kageyama?”

atsumu hums noncommittally. it’s a fair point. but he doesn’t want to be a dick about this stuff, not with hinata, even though he totally is a dick about a lot of things—so sue him for trying to figure out if the boy in his arms is even in the right headspace to fuck around. 

he loosens his grip, just in case he actually does want to disentangle, but hinata grabs his arm and pulls it tighter around him. “we never even kissed,” he mumbles into atsumu’s shirt, almost too quiet to hear.

atsumu makes a “what did you say?” kind of sound, winds his fingers back into hinata’s hair and waits to hear more.

hinata holds still for a second while he decides if he’s actually gonna elaborate. 

“kageyama. i could never even get him to kiss me, the asshole. not for real... not as a dare...” he takes a weird sharp breath. “i finally even... just… asked for it, straight up. more than once.” 

on at least a few of those occasions, “asking” may be a bit of an understatement... but thinking about how it felt to be that vulnerable, to let himself plead and still only get a “ _tch._ ” kinda makes hinata want to throw up. (kinda makes his face hot, too.)

“his fucking loss,” atsumu breathes. he doesn’t entirely remember why he thought this conversation was a good idea, or why it needed to happen at this very moment, but he smoothes his hand up hinata’s shirt until his fingertips almost reach his collar. “who wouldn’t want to kiss _you_?” 

“all kinds of people, probably,” hinata says dismissively, finally meeting atsumu’s eyes again. “but i don’t usually make a habit of begging them to find out.” 

it occurs to atsumu that he would not mind learning more about the other kinds of things hinata has begged for. “sounds like you’ve been a bit... obsessed,” he suggests, tracing his fingers along hinata’s throat. 

“‘m not,” hinata starts, already tipping his head back to let atsumu’s knuckles brush up under his chin. 

atsumu makes a soft, derisive noise, finally lets his touch reach hinata’s barely parted lips, and has the beginnings of an awful idea.

“i’d kiss you,” he says, feeling hinata’s smile under his long fingers. then he sucks in a deep inhale. “but i bet you’d just be wishing it were him the whole time, wouldn’t you?”

“i…” hinata starts again, not sure what the right answer is.

“oh, tch. i’m sure you’ve done it before, and i bet you’ll do it again, too. but the thing i wanna know most—and don’t try to lie, okay?” atsumu’s voice gets a little more deliberate “—is whether you still think about him whenever you touch yourself.”

hinata’s face colors. “i might.” then he grins. “...but so what if i do?” 

“of course you do,” atsumu murmurs. “how embarrassing.” he pinches hinata’s lower lip, pulling it out into a pout before letting go. “here, you wanna sit up? think you can keep your eyes closed?” 

he gives a tiny nod, so atsumu manhandles him upright, pulling him back against his chest. hinata tips his head backward toward atsumu’s shoulder, baring his throat again, eyes fluttering but still obediently closed.

atsumu whispers, mouth close enough to hinata’s ear to make him shiver.

“...poor little lovesick shouyou, who never even got his kiss, still jerkin’ it to his shoulda-been high school sweetheart.” he ghosts his hands along the hem of hinata’s shirt, feels the heat of his skin and follows it up underneath, dragging his fingertips just enough to make goosebumps. 

“aw. just look at you. are you wishing these were tobio’s hands? wanting to be touched so bad you’ll take any hands at all… but always still thinking about his, just the same. do you think all those other boys knew?”

hinata squirms in his lap, so atsumu runs his hands back down from inside hinata’s shirt to his knees, pulling them apart and hooking them outside his own to keep him still. 

“i’m sure they must have. i mean—anybody with eyes can tell. i bet they just didn’t care, because they got to play with you anyway. why should anybody else care what’s going on in your dirty little head while they fuck you?”

hinata lets out the smallest whine, and atsumu’s inhale catches. “what if,” he’s whispering again, right along hinata’s jawline, heart pounding against hinata’s back, “...i told you he was here? right here? just… watching us?” he feels for hinata’s heart, too, folding his arms around him again, spreading both their knees wider. “would you believe me?” 

atsumu holds hinata’s quickening heartbeat in his hand, holds his own breath, until hinata gets it. “yeah,” he breathes. they both breathe. “okay, yeah.”

good, atsumu thinks. thank god. he reaches for the bottom of hinata’s shirt again and lifts it. “we should probably give him something nice to look at, then, shouldn’t we?” 

hinata obliges, wrestling out of it. it’s pretty graceless, but maybe that’s something they can work with. “i don’t think he’s going to be very impressed with that performance, shouyou. we may have to try a little harder. why don’t you stand up and do a better job with your pants?”

atsumu can’t help but break character for a split second when hinata starts to stumble—”you can open your eyes, shou, just look at me,”—but he almost regrets it once their eyes are locked as he slowly, deliberately unbuttons and unzips, sliding his pants down over his ass and infuriatingly perfect thighs. 

he’s not wearing underwear. it fucking figures. “better,” atsumu allows quietly, willing himself not to lose the weirdly intense, sensual staring contest they’re suddenly frozen in. hinata stands flushed and wide-eyed, naked in front of atsumu, still seated and clothed, and atsumu drinks in the buzzy feeling of power that gives him. at least, until hinata pulls him up to standing, too, and gets to work unbuttoning, lip between his teeth.

“it’s really a shame that you’re not on your knees,” atsumu says, finally glancing away, bare-chested, faded black underwear already showing some strain. hinata drops to the floor without a thought, so hard it makes the nearest empty bottle fall over. christ. it’s even better than he could have hoped. 

atsumu lays a hand heavy on the top of hinata’s head. “i bet you think you’re gonna suck me off, too, huh? you wanna be able to show off? show tobio here just how good you’ve gotten at sucking everybody’s cock but his?” hinata leans his face into atsumu’s crotch, nodding softly. he looks a little like he might cry. atsumu grabs a fistful of his hair and tips his head back, watching his mouth fall open. hinata’s breath is shallow and his blush is ridiculous but he manages half a lazy smirk so atsumu figures he’s good to keep pushing.

atsumu hums. “should i let you try it? i can’t decide. or maybe i don’t even need your help in the first place. maybe i just let you sit down there and look up at me while you watch, instead. maybe i should mess that pretty face all up.” hinata makes a noise from somewhere near the back of his throat, and atsumu smiles down at him, pets his face. “but maybe... i oughtta get a second opinion. what do you think, _tobio-kun_? should i let shouyou try to suck my dick? or would you rather i just fuck his mouth instead?”

“please,” hinata mumbles, rubbing his nose back and forth across the soft fabric stretched over atsumu’s erection. 

“please what?” atsumu asks, pulling away just enough. “please let me,” hinata mumbles again, trying to chase him. so he tries something different. “please _who?_ ”

“‘tsumu… “

he squeezes the back of hinata’s neck like he’s scruffing a cat and feels him go lax. “please _who_?” 

“atsumu…?” hinata says, a little more clearly. 

“and?” 

atsumu can feel his heart pounding in his molars as he waits. hopes.

“...yama…” hinata whines, voice so, so small.

“that’s it,” atsumu murmurs, stroking his hair back from his forehead. “say it.”

hinata swears and for a minute atsumu genuinely doesn’t know if he’ll do it, but then somehow he does. 

“p-p-please, ‘yama,” hinata swallows, then quiets to a shameful whisper, teeth almost chattering. “...please...tobio... please let me suck ‘tsumu’s cock...” 

holy shit.

holy shit. 

atsumu almost comes on the spot. instead he focuses on hinata’s face cradled in his hands, and lets him pull his underwear over and off, watching a shiny string of precome stretch and snap.

hinata raises glassy eyes up to atsumu’s face and closes the distance. his pink tongue peeks out between his lips, which barely brush a kiss to the tip of atsumu’s dick as he mouths “please?” one more time, almost inaudible.

before answering, atsumu takes the time to smear his dick along hinata’s lips, against his nose and across his cheeks, leaving a pretty shine in the dim light. hinata takes a shaky breath but doesn’t break eye contact. “yeah, fine,” atsumu sighs, like it doesn’t matter, and tries not to immediately lose his mind when hinata finally gets him in his mouth.

hinata doesn’t use his hands. he leaves them free to tease over inner thighs and inside the backs of atsumu’s knees, to swirl around ankle bones. he lets his tongue play in atsumu’s slit for a long sweet moment and then slams his cock directly into the back of his throat a few times, gagging around it like he literally doesn’t give a fuck. 

atsumu winds quivering fingers back into hinata’s hair, where his hands catch them and squeeze, hard, an easy enough message to decode. he tightens his grip, twisting, and yanks until hinata pops off with a gasp. “do it,” hinata says, sitting back onto his heels. 

don’t tell me what to do, atsumu thinks, steering his head back into place with a rough fistful of red hair, feeling the vibration of a moan around the base of his cock as he starts to fuck into his face.

god help him, it’s the image of kageyama that does it. after what feels like no time at all to atsumu but probably a lot longer to the guy on his knees, he remembers the setup, places kageyama in the scene. pictures him furious, disgusted, turned on. pictures him watching carefully, face red, lips parted and his hand in his pants. pictures him betrayed and heartbroken, unable to look away, one perfect tear running down his cheek. pictures him watching without any interest whatsoever. sees him filing his goddamn nails as they shake and sweat in front of him, completely unmoved. rolling his eyes and glancing away as atsumu pants hinata’s name, a heads up, and tries to pull out, but hinata clutches his hips until he can feel him pulse along the back of his tongue.

“fuck,” atsumu groans, loosening his grip. hinata swallows hard, dragging the back of his hand against swollen lips, and starts to get his tingling feet back under him. atsumu hoists him up, catching him around the waist, finally pulling him into a kiss and looking for his own bitter taste in his mouth. he gets his head back in the game. 

“you made that look so good, baby… so good for tobio...” he spits the praise into hinata’s mouth, sucking his lip between his teeth and biting down. hinata twists in his arms as atsumu runs his hands along his shoulderblades, down his spine, and grabs under his ass, picking him up like he weighs nothing. hinata locks his ankles together around him, like he has any chance of falling between here and atsumu sitting back down bare-assed on the couch. hinata’s bruising knees come down on either side of atsumu’s thighs, and they take turns sucking face, following each other’s tongues back home behind their teeth.

hinata’s got his dick pressed hard against atsumu’s stomach and he wants to go ahead and wrap his fingers around it but he’s got different plans for where his fingers should go. so he dances his hands down hinata’s back and spreads his ass apart, showing him off to the empty room and the idea of a guy he can’t fucking stand but can’t stop thinking about. 

“...i can’t believe you’re letting him see you like this, shouyou,” he whispers against hinata’s temple as he tucks his face into atsumu’s neck and sucks on the sweat he finds there. he keeps feathering awful ticklish touches everywhere except where hinata actually wants him. “you’d really just let me hold you wide open for anybody to see?” 

atsumu finally taps a fingertip directly there, feels his hole try to kiss open and beg for more. hinata bites down on his shoulder and stutters his hips, grinding forward against him. “humping into my lap like a teenager, too?” he drawls. “honestly. how desperate are you?”

“oh, fuck you, ‘tsumu,” hinata murmurs, at the same time as atsumu says “open…” and pops a finger into his mouth. he swirls it around with hinata’s tongue. “what was that you were saying?” 

he removes his finger from hinata’s mouth and puts it back where it was, cold from the air with spit. hinata arches against him as it just barely starts to press in and grins. “i guess i’m desperate enough to fuck you, right?” 

atsumu raises an eyebrow and slips his hands out and away from hinata entirely. “come again?” 

hinata smirks up at him and replaces his absent hands back on his hips. “that’d mean i’d have to come the first time, wouldn’t it?” 

“i liked you better all shivery on the floor with my dick in your mouth,” atsumu growls, digging his fingers into the flesh of hinata’s ass. “whatever happened to—” he lets his voice go all breathy, gasping—“ _ please, kageyama, pleeease,”  _ and watches hinata wilt a shade, getting red again. 

for a heartbeat or two, atsumu’s afraid he’s crossed a line. but then he feels hinata’s dick twitch once, twice against his abs. “hey, look at me,” he says. “do i need to take you to bed and shut you up before you can find a way to embarrass yourself even more?” 

“yeah,” hinata swallows, face on fire but eyes glittering. “maybe you do?”

he catches hinata’s jaw in his hand. “i’m sure we can find a way to keep your mouth busy. maybe it’s finally tobio’s turn. maybe he’s done just watching. c’mon.”


	2. believe me

does atsumu actually have a plan to play this next part out? not really. is he wishing he was a clever enough slut to keep some extra lube in the living room, so they don’t have to relocate? yes. but is he going to relish the shit out of the opportunity to carry hinata into his bedroom and throw him down on the bed? oh, hell yes.

he can’t help but take a couple of cute wall-slam makeout detours along the way, killing time until his hard-on comes back online, so by the time he finally carries hinata over the threshold to his bedroom like a pair of naked grooms, he’s just about ready to think about getting it up again.

he pours hinata out onto his bed and revels in the sight of him there, legs kicked out wide, leaning back on his elbows, so hard it looks a little painful, before climbing on top and kissing the breath out of him. for a minute he lets himself savor the idea of them just enjoying each other, just shouyou and atsumu, with no weird kageyama obsession mindfuck… but then he thinks of hinata on his knees—trembling, glowing with humiliation, overwhelmed and begging—and yeah. they have all the time in the world for vanilla sex, probably. right now, whatever this is, he’s gotta see it through.

the next time they’ve gotta breathe, atsumu rolls off, but stays pressed in close to hinata’s side. he trickles his fingers up and down hinata’s chest a few times before finally taking him in hand, watching his face when he sucks in a breath. 

“shouyou,” atsumu purrs, doing a fun little wrist thing other guys have seemed to like. “have you ever actually had a threesome?” 

hinata lets out a funny sigh-laugh. “not really? i mean, i guess this one time, there was this girl who, like… well. it’s kind of a long story.”

atsumu bookmarks that story for later. “gotcha,” he says, lightening his touch and pressing his nose into hinata’s ear and exhaling to see him shiver. “so what you’re saying is, you’ve never actually gotten to be caught in the middle...crushed between—say, for instance—two tall, beautiful setters? i mean, jesus christ, shou, it’s clear you’ve got a fucking type.”

hinata, who had been trying not to giggle, chokes. 

“i’m sure you can picture it, i know you’ve got plenty of practice. me and tobio, with our sweet little spiker sandwiched between us? c’mon, close your eyes again. i can tie something around ‘em if you want me to.”

“mm,” hinata smiles as he closes his eyes. “maybe next time.” 

_ next time.  _ atsumu does a little mental hell yeah as reaches for the nightstand and snags the needful. sounds like he may be needing a new bottle of lube sooner than he’d thought.

his slick hand slips back down around hinata’s cock as his hips buck up off the bed, desperately trying to fuck into atsumu’s fist. all the while he keeps talking, painting pretty pictures of them—limbs tangling together, hinata smothered, sucking in air that smells like all three of them. four hands fighting over the right to claim him, long gorgeous fingers gripping, groping, teasing him inside and out. 

“roll over,” atsumu breathes, “facedown.” and hinata does, whimpering at the interruption, humping helplessly against the sheets as atsumu lies on top of him, forcing him down flat against the bed, throbbing close and hot against hinata’s ass. 

atsumu reaches down between them to taunt hinata until he’s writhing before slowly fucking him open with his fingers, whispering about goosebumps, scratch marks, smooth skin bit to bruising. three mouths panting together, humid with sweat and spit. aching for it. begging for it. 

when he sits back to roll on a condom, he stares down at hinata’s back, watching him take a few shuddery breaths into his lungs while he has the chance.

“you’ve been so good for me tonight,” he murmurs, reaching for hinata’s face as he lines himself up. “now, be good for tobio, too.” hinata lets out a sob and sucks atsumu’s fingers like it’s kageyama’s cock, drool running down his cheek and atsumu’s wrist, pooling on the sheet under his face. atsumu flexes his fingers as he sinks deep into him, trying to be himself and kageyama both, everywhere, trying to fill him from every angle. he feels hinata flinch and gag and keep sucking. when he bottoms out, he slips the hand that’s not halfway down hinata’s throat back underneath them both to give hinata something to fuck into, too, as he fucks him into the mattress.

atsumu’s only real warning before hinata starts to shake apart underneath him is the sudden tightness of his jaw as his breath catches. hinata gasps out a wet and wordless moan around the fingers in his mouth, bucking his hips and coming hot and easy into the circle of atsumu’s hand. 

atsumu can’t hold on much beyond feeling the arch of hinata’s spine and the clench of his muscles—and why the hell should he—so he grinds down hard enough to forget kageyama’s name, sucks a mouthful of hinata’s shoulder between his teeth, and lets go.

it takes them a long slow moment to resolve back into two distinct and separate bodies, peeling their sticky skin and fraying nerves apart bit by bit. atsumu rolls off, back into reality, knotting and tossing the condom, while hinata gingerly folds onto his side, wiping his nose with the heel of his hand. when atsumu collapses back into bed, suddenly drained beyond belief, hinata reaches for him, a small, loose smile peering out from his face. he gathers atsumu into his arms and kisses him soft and sweet on the mouth. 

“hey,” hinata says, voice a little hoarse, revealing to atsumu that he’s one of those charming guys who can only think to say  _ “hey,” _ after sex. “hey,” he says back, falling into that same awestruck category. atsumu swallows hard, watches the tiny perfect shadows of hinata’s eyelashes on his cheeks in the lamplight. their faces are so close together. nobody’s doing any brazen, achy mindgames—it’s just them. 

“a-are you…? i mean, how, uh—” atsumu is struggling. he tries again. “was that okay?”

beautiful hinata snorts in his face. “shit, i…  _ yeah.  _ yes. did it not… look... like it was okay?”

“no, yeah. i just… wanted to check. i... know it was kind of. you know.”

hinata turns his head to blow his sweaty bangs up out of his face, then looks right back into atsumu’s eyes and grins. “mm, yeah, it sure was.” 

atsumu reels.

he did not,  _ could not _ , ever imagine, when he asked hinata out, tried to flirt him into bed, the way in which this particular evening unfolded—feels his face get hot and his heart jump all over again, just thinking about the things he actually said, and the way hinata devoured them, just let himself be broken open and laid bare. he knew hinata was something else, but holy shit, miya atsumu should probably never be given that kind of power over anyone.

on the other hand, hinata’s exactly as tough as he looks. if anybody can take everything atsumu gives and still utterly demolish him with a smile, it’s him.

“so,” hinata asks innocently, brushing the tips of their noses together. “who else do  _ you _ still have a crush on?”

**Author's Note:**

> presumably i don't need to tell you that guessing your partner might be into being humiliated until they cry and then winging it to find out if you're right is not a stellar plan, but hey—i did it anyway. 
> 
> happy atsuhina day! <3


End file.
